


Red

by pyrexprodigy



Series: VOCALOID Soulmates - Universe One [1]
Category: Vocaloid
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Misogyny, Self-Harm, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrexprodigy/pseuds/pyrexprodigy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Miku's world, soulmate patterns trace across your fingers and wrist, matching exactly with the one you're meant to be with.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Originally posted to fanfiction.net on Nov. 17, 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

When Miku is born, she is born with beautiful, clear skin. Her fingers and hands are a blank canvas, waiting to be traced out and sculpted thoroughly with ink. Her tiny nails are stark and nude, and her father places a gentle kiss on her fingertips as her tired mother holds her for the very first time.

* * *

When Miku is three, her inking begins to slowly trace her skin. It's pale at first, shades of grey that look like faded pen, and her parents figure her soulmate has been so recently born there's very little that travels over to their daughter. She likes to trace the light patterns in the bath, surrounded by bubbles and tile. She likes to look at how the swirls fit together, and how they almost seem to move and grow as she watches. She doesn't entirely get them yet, but when she looks at her mother's marks while laying next to her, when she looks at her father's worn hands when he walks in the door in the evening, she understands there's some sort of connection between them, since her parents do have awfully similar markings.

* * *

When Miku is seven, she really starts to understand. She understands that these markings are hers, they're private, and she can see the gloves the older kids wear to cover their patterns. She thinks it's silly, because how are they supposed to meet their true love when they can't see if they match?

* * *

When Miku is twelve, she kisses Rei Kagene in the back of a closet at a party and feels her stomach twist into knots of guilt when she realizes she just kissed a boy she has no intention of spending the rest of her life with. She's relieved to find out Rei doesn't expect a relationship out of her, that he just wanted to see what kissing her would be like, since she was okay with it and everything.

Miku thinks Rei is cute and smart and pretty nice, but since the blooming vines wrapping around his fingers don't match her swirls, they obviously don't belong together. That's okay, though. They can still be friends, she decides.

* * *

Miku is fourteen when she ditches the gloves her parents gave her. She shrugs when they ask why, noticing how her own marks barely show much above the cuff of her school shirt, anyway.

Besides, holding a pencil is a pain with gloves on.

* * *

Miku is fifteen when a teacher kicks her out for not wearing her gloves. He's an old, crusty misogynist who believes women should remain pure for marriage and a man is only a man after he's had his dick in something. Miku hates him, and the headmaster of her school agrees, allowing her back to class and choosing to ignore the look of pure steel iron in her eyes. He chuckles, wondering what soulmate had the luck, unfortunate or not, of ending up with Miku as a match.

* * *

Miku is seventeen and she paints her nails a soft green to contrast the red tint her marks have taken on. She draws attention away from the scars in ink near her wrist with this color, wondering whether her soulmate is okay now. She hopes they are, because someone who traced such pretty marks on her skin deserves to be unhappy.

* * *

Miku is eighteen when she watches Rei leave on his flight to England, where he'll be studying abroad. She waves, her smile bright. She's not sad, because she knows Rei will enjoy himself and because she doesn't miss him quite yet. She's just glad he got something he deserved.

Miku is eighteen when she sighs, twirls toward the exit of the airport, and runs directly into a boy with lovely eyes. It's cliche, but she likes his eyes, and those are what she notices first as he apologizes.

"It's not a problem. I should have been watching where I was going," she replies, one hand catching the skin at her wrist and scratching, a habit she's developed. At her side, her skin itches, and it doesn't seem to stop. in fact, it continues to become hot and painful. Miku rubs at her wrist fiercely, trying to smile at the stranger.

"Anyway, ah- goddamn, sorry. I really should be going," she tells the boy, her wrist really starting to ache. She sees him glance down and notice her lack of gloves. It's not uncommon to uncover marks, but Miku doesn't suppose it's common either.

"Um, do you… do you mind?" he asks, weakly gesturing to her wrists. She holds out her arm, allowing him to catch her hand and trace her marks with gloved hands. She doesn't really mind people looking at her mark; after all, she'd lie if she said she wasn't curious in meeting her match. Maybe they wouldn't be romantically involved at all. She knew that could happen. It would just be nice to meet whoever the universe seemed to pair you with, you know?

His breath seems to catch as he turns her wrist skyward, the scars in ink visible.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I was hoping…"

Miku takes that to mean he doesn't see a match and smiles sympathetically, pulling her arm back to her side. "It happens a lot," she reassures.

He shakes his head. "No," he tells her, pulling his glove off to reveal his marks. "I was hoping you wouldn't get those scars, too."

Her eyes run over the familiar ink, swirls and circles that bloom and float across his skin. Again, she lifts her hand, moving to stand beside him. She think she smiles when she notices the match, though she could be wrong. Despite him being a stranger, she carefully places her own hand over his outstretched one, allowing her fingers to lightly curl around his knuckles.

"Hi," she says.

"Hey yourself," he replies.

"I'm Miku."

"Len."

They grin sheepishly at each other for a moment and Miku notices their hands are at their sides now. Every kid's seem that movie where the soulmates meet and sparks fly. They heatedly make out, they date, they rush into marriage because they are just that perfect for each other. But Miku thinks that even holding this guy's hand is a bit weird, and pulls away.

"Want my number?" she asks.

"Of course," Len smiles shyly, pulling out his phone. "So I guess this means…?"

Miku wants to laugh at his awkwardness, but she's awkward too. Besides, that would just be rude.

"It means I'll be seeing you again, Len," she says, offering him a Miku smile and holding out his glove for him to slip his hand into.

He shakes his head. "No, thanks. I've had too many years of that."

Miku just shrugs and slides it into her pocket. Well, it's obvious he doesn't want it.

Her number is tapped into Len's contacts, and Miku sends him a quick selfie for him to save as a profile picture. She tries to choose one she thinks looks cute and realizes that's a bit silly, but she doesn't care much.

"So," she begins. "See you around, soulmate."

"Not if I see you first, dear," he playfully replies with a hint of red in his cheeks. They don't really know how to depart, so Miku turns and leaves, a feeling of giddiness sending her heart skittering. The skin around her wrist and hand has stopped burning now, and the gradient red that has colored her ink is beautiful, she decides.

She can't wait to tell Rei.


End file.
